The three men stopped arguing when the redhaired young woman shuffled slowly into the bunker kitchen, still wearing her floral pajama shorts and Dean's old renegade tshirt, her gray comforter wrapped aroung her. Her hair was untamed and back in a messy bun, a few strands near her ear escaping as she moved.

The shortest man in the dark suit smirked at her disheveled appearance and her gray eyes narrowed at him, unamused. "Well... good morning, darling."

"You're in the way." She pushed past him to pour herself a mug of coffee before pulling open the cabinet above the coffee maker. She brought down a half full bottle of Dean's whiskey and unscrewed the cap before adding an ounce or so to the white mug. He looked surprised at her nonchalance towards him, glancing at the brothers a few feet away, then back at her.

From behind her, Sam chuckled at the almost hurt look on Crowley's face. "Don't you know who I am, sweetheart?"

She turned to face him and the boys after screwing the cap back on the glass bottle, mug in one hand, blanket clutched in the other, still wrapped around her shoulders. "Did you bring doughnuts?" Her tone was a mixutre of bored and irritated.

His expression changed to a confused one. "Excuse me?"

"Did. You Bring. Doughnuts?' She asked slowly, as if he was an idiot. Dean could barely hold back his laughter, his shoulders shaking. "Hello?" She blew on her coffee before taking a careful sip, her steely gaze on him as she waited on an answer.

"Doughnuts?" He looked back at the boys, confused, then back to the fiesty woman in front of him. "No."

"Then I don't give two fucks who you are." She spoke smoothly, taking another drink of her steaming coffee. That made Sam speak up.

"This is Crowley."

She purposefully eyed him head to toe, clearly unimpressed. "And he didn't bring breakfast?'

The man in the black suit was nearly boiling with anger now. "No, I didn't bring you breakfast, princess. I'm the king of hell." Dean watched her ponder that for a few seconds; when her attitude wasn't directed at him, she was actually quite funny.

"Like, actual hell or the one in Michigan?"

"Hell hell. Burning eternal fires hell."

"Hm." She glanced over at the boys, then back to Crowley. "No offense, but if there were an actual ruler in hell, I'm pretty sure it would be a woman... and she'd probably be a scorpio." Crowley closed his eyes. She took another sip of her coffee.

"Is she kidding me?" Crowley spat at the boys.

Dean couldn't help himself and he laughed out loud, earning a dirty look from Crowley and a playful smirk from the redheaded spitfire.

She moved past the bunker table near the boys, heading for the door. "You listen here, you little passive aggressive bitch." Crowley began. "I didn't come here to be insulted. I came asking for a favor."

"Don't give me attitude, darling." She rolled her eyes. "I already have one of my own." He pointed a finger at her and looked over at the older hunter.

"Boy, Dean, this girl right here gives your days as a demon a run for their money."

"I'm sure there was a compliment in there somewhere." She smirked at him again.

"I have never been so insulted-," Crowely spat.

"You don't listen much, do ya?" She downed half of her coffee, adjusting the blanket around her. "See you around, short stuff." She wandered out of the bunker kitchen, the soft blanket trailing behind her. Dean watched her go until her comforter disappeared around the corner of the doorway and his eyes moved back to Crowley's.

"She's something else." He smiled a bit at the king's obvious opinion of their new housemate.

"Yeah," Sam smiled a bit. "So what is it that you wanted from us?"